Ain't Love Grand
by peroxidepest17
Summary: Riley and Spike duke it out...


Title: Ain't Love Grand  
Author: Celeste  
Rating: PG-13 for violence and some language...I think. :P  
Disclaimer: Ain't mine. I wouldn't want Riley anyway, eeeuw. But I'd take Spike if he were offered...*VVEG*  
Summary: Riley and Spike duke it out (finally!!)  
Feedback: Gimme gimme gimme! But be gentle, this IS after all, a first attempt. :)  
Distribution: Ask an' ye shall receive. Unless you like Riley or Wesley in which case it's against my religion to give it to you. LOL! :P   
  
  
"If you touched her I'd kill you."  
"And if I didn't have this chip in my head, I'd have killed you long ago. Ain't love grand?"-Riley and Spike "Into The Woods"  
  
Riley was afraid. It usually didn't happen often. Okay, maybe it DID, but he didn't show it often. And he was absolutely determined not to show it now. As long as he could keep from wetting his pants he could do that. The commando set his jaw squarely and eased his weight into his legs so he was planted firmly onto the earth. He wouldn't let this hostile get to him. He wouldn't allow a monster...a simple animal, to cripple a man with merely a spine tingling glare. An army man for that matter. So agent Finn kept his gaze steady and crossed his arms defiantly, trying to look intimidating while mentally assessing the creature. All of this however, found to be a great source of amusement to his opponent.   
"So, here we are..." The vampire stated with impertinent, offhanded ease, his smile purely predatory. Riley shivered involuntarily as the fangs glistened dangerously in the starlight, like an omen. He knew his attacker was confident; and seemed to be having a grand old time above all else. This vampire wasn't afraid. Granted, he would probably be much more afraid if Riley still had his gun, but he didn't. All he had was his knife, a meticulously sharpened three inch blade that he had retrieved from inside his boot the moment his handgun, and his stake, had been kicked away from him.  
The moon shone full in the black sky, highlighting the pale skin of the hostile. The face was ready for attack, ridged plates protruding like armor with eyes bright and sharp and yellow narrowed in their almost giddy anticipation. His frame was smaller than Finn's, sinewy and lithe under the coat as it bounced from foot to foot lightly. There was strength in the shorter build, something darkly accentuated with the slight bulge of muscle along his deltoids and pectorals; visible through the black shirt that clung to him like skin . The image of a panther or jaguar came to mind... something graceful, stealthy, and fluent but tremendously savage and powerful at the same time. It's scrupulously clean pair of elongated canines clacked subtly with barely controlled excitement, diffusing as echoes in the night; the only audible sound other than the man's breathing. The hostile radiated electric energy, humming with bolts of it that so needed to be released. That were building up.   
The commando knew he needed to try and plant some doubt in the vamp's mind... wear down it's psychological walls so that perhaps it's physical ones would come down a notch as well. "You don't stand a chance," Riley tried to threaten gruffly. It didn't work. Probably because his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence.  
It also didn't quite have the desired effect. In fact, it sent the vamp into howling peals of laughter. So much so that it's yellow eyes lost their deadly edge as it's face returned to the handsome human mask. Riley was almost red with anger. It had the audacity to drop all of its guard, in the middle of their battle? Apparently so. It found the soldier so funny that he didn't even believe him to be a threat anymore and lost his tense, battle ready posturing completely. Riley tried to channel his anger. He was big, and bad, and threatening (or so he told himself). Growling low in his throat, the commando crouched and held his knife in front of him in an offensive position. He'd show this blood sucker fear.   
Spike was out of breath from laughing. Well, okay, he couldn't really be, considering he didn't need air. But if he did, he would be. This was too bloody hilarious. The boy actually THOUGHT he could scare William the Bloody with a ridiculously weak attempt at a threat? He thought that a 21 year old that moved with the fluidity and continuality of an ox could scare a master of vampires with centuries of unparalleled fury and dark, graceful murder under his belt? This boy before him apparently did. However, Spike himself had seen days when RED was more frightening than the clumsy child before him. And she had been less silly looking at that.   
Hearing a movement, he had the sense to look up from his glee as Riley prepared to take him on. It was laughable really. Spike dodged the first thrust, still grinning like mad. This only seemed to further enrage Riley. He dodged the second swing where he knew it would come, at his head. This time he couldn't even stifle the obnoxious, unimpressed "Ppfft..." that the weak offensive had solicited. The good Cap'n was rightly brassed off now, wasn't he? How bloody enjoyable.   
He continued to ignore all the openings to slip in Riley unknowingly allowed with his angry swipes to enjoy the situation. His first bloody fight since he learned the chip wasn't working anymore. How appropriate. Something easy to get the memory back. Practice, really. Backing up slightly with each dodge, he let the boy think his offensive was impressing while he REALLY contemplated just how he was going to go about and kill him. He wanted to make it last because that was usually the most painful... but that could just end up being a waste of time, and he hated that. He had better things to do. People to see, Slayers to shag and all that. He grabbed Riley's wrist on yet another failed stab and smacked it hard with the palm of his hand so that the knife hit the street with an ominous clatter. Spike kicked it expertly into a gutter behind him without batting an eye. Riley let out a pained grunt, both from the blow and from loosing his only weapon, but still managed to use his free hand to claw at Spike and cause him to drop his hold on his other arm. "I'm going to kill you Spike," he ground out, backing off a bit to rub his bruised arm.   
Spike rolled his eyes. "Can't you do any better than that boy?"  
"What do you mean?" Riley's eyes narrowed into slits.   
Spike shrugged. "I mean, "I'm going to kill you"? You sound like a bleedin' comic book villain. Rates right up there with, "Time for you to die", an' "this is the end" it does." Spike shrugged, looking upward thoughtfully while still avoiding Riley with his other heightened senses. "Thought you might think up something better, what you bein' the big bad college chap an' all. You could have at least had the decency to bring something creative prepared for me. I like bein' descriptive myself. "I'm going to rip your bollocks off, shove them down your throat, and smash them in-between your larynx and your trachea... somethin' like that maybe." Riley would have looked incredulous if he wasn't so furious. "At least you'd die respectably then..." Spike continued, using a tone that could have meant he was having tea and scones with the lad instead of throwing down with him in the middle of the road.   
Riley's incomprehensible noises of indignation and rage brought him back from his reverie about the threats. He decided he was bored now, as Riley lunged forward to try and land a plowing right hook. Spike swung his upper torso in a backward arc to avoid it and on the soldier's follow through came forward once again to connect with a solid left cross while he was still off balance. Somewhere in the back on his mind the energetic vamp took the time to think, "lefties rule" before slamming his knee into the commando's gut and flipping him over his leg onto the concrete. Riley rolled last minute to avoid the boot that would probably have smashed his head into a pasty gray pulp on the deserted street. That disappointed Spike, but only slightly. He still wanted to play a little longer. See why the Slayer thought this wanker was so damn interesting. For the life of him, he couldn't figure it out.   
Rolling back to his feet, the commando breathed heavily, eyes never leaving Spike. STILL, Spike looked disinterested. "What? You don't think I can hurt you?" he grated out.  
Spike's reply was another involuntary "Pffft." Before the obnoxious vampire actually pulled out a cigarette and lit it in the middle of everything, like it was appropriate. Riley couldn't take much more of this. Being mocked in the middle of something that was supposed to be life and death. Letting out a big growl, he sprang at hostile 17 with the look of a mad man on his face. Spike puffed away idly until the last second, then sprang up into an impressively high flip, cartwheeling mid air before landing behind Riley. The human's surprise was evident; Spike could even hear his heartbeat jump and then speed up. Turning around swiftly, the vamp swiped out Riley's legs and quickly pinned him to the ground with a boot to the neck.   
"I suppose I could rip your throat out and drain you dry, seein' as to how I AM a vampire..." Spike started conversationally, blowing smoke into the air lazily before tossing his half used cigarette onto the pavement. "But then again why would I want chicken blood when I could go find myself someone with some personality? Personality adds flavor you know. I'd bet you'd taste like bloody Cream Of Wheat you would... not really worth spoilin' the appetite..."  
Riley was deathly afraid right now and Spike was talking about Cream Of Wheat? His hands clenched around the boot pressed painfully against his throat as he tried to find a way out of this ridiculously embarrassing situation.   
The futile wiggling however, brought Spike's zipping attention span back to the present situation. "Well. I don't really want to eat you mate. But you see, I can't really let you live either. Bloody sorry ass of a fighter you are. It'd be embarrassing if any of the other vamps found out you threw down with me and lived. I know the Slayer still sort of has a soft spot for you... she refers to you as the big dull kitty cat and what not, so I'll make it quick."  
Riley's terror struck big time now, hearing William the Bloody talk so casually about his death. He struggled more, but stopped when more pressure was added to the boot pressed against him. The fear finally seeped through. Literally.  
Spike made a face. "Well that's disgusting. And a bloody pathetic way to die, soilin' yourself right before. Now I really DO have to kill you... not for my own benefit...but for the world's..."  
Riley would have pleaded, but the heavy boot was suddenly snapped sharply to the right, along with his neck.   
Spike shook his head sadly and wondered about tomorrow's headlines in the papers for Finn. "Former USC student found dead on Main St. The boy wet his bloody pants." Popped into mind. He laughed and whistled while strolling down the street. The fight had gotten him rather worked up, and he had a Slayer to shag.   
  
END  
  



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